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She wasn't alright. No, she wasn't and she actually was done acting like she was as her nightrobe was tightly wrapped around her body, messy hair tied together in an even messier bun, hoping to hide the fact that she hadn't brushed her hair in a couple of days while she walked around the house. A house she no longer refered to as a home. Because that so called home would be one she once shared with a serial killer, who for a matter of fact tried to kill her and her daughter, a daughter that rather stays with her boyfriend than with her mother. Not that she was blaming Betty for that...

She understood.

After it all happened she tried to put on that mask of a stone cold bitch that could take anyone down easily but she found it harder to do now as eyes were always focused on her. Riverdale was and is a small town and everyone knows everything. Their eyes said what they didn't dare to say. It's not like anyone would dare to go up to her and say: "Condolences for the fact that you were and still are married to a serial killer that tried to kill you and you still live in a house where everything reminds you of that simple fact. Not to forget that that serial killer husband also cheated on you." Side note...

No...She wasn't alright.

She had friends who tried but gave up. Friends who came knocking on her door in hope that that door would open and show what a mess she was, which would not happen because she still had some pride in this fucked up life, no she never opened the door. Not for Fred who tried the longest. Each morning and each night. Not for Hermione who gave up after a couple of weeks of knocking. Not for her oldest daughter who saw this the right opportunity to make her a part of that crazy cult of hers. Not for anyone. Keeping the curtains closed, the doors locked. Locking herself up in a house that felt so cold now...

But then there was he.

FP, who she really couldn't name as something specific. They used to be lovers who became friends who turned back to lovers and now...Now they were just them. A complicated pair of people. He came and waited sometimes more than hours by her door, talking to the door, knowing all too well that she was standing behind it, listening to every word leaving his lips cause no matter how much she was hurt, she could never ignore him, turn her back to him. He was and is some kind of remedy to any sadness in her life and just like now, it felt like every word put a bandage on a cut Hal made. Every emotion that was hearable in his voice almost made her throw the door open and let him in once again. 

Still, she was leaning against a closed door with him standing at the other side.

"I know you are in there, Ali."He whispered, a hand resting against the door, hoping, pleading the gods to help her open the door and let him inside. "I won't hurt you, not again."He added softly, a sigh leaving his lips, noticing Fred throwing him a sad smile before entering his house. "He hurt you and it is my fault, Alice. I let him inside your life because I was an asshole and still am. I hate how I turned my back to you back in Pop's. I should have wrapped my arms around your body and held you close to me and never ever let you go but instead I do what I do best, hurt the people I love the most."He continued, not knowing how her grip tightened on the doorknob. "I'm scared to love because I'm scared to lose and the thought of losing you, kills me, Ali babe."The words that left his lips made her heart slowly beat just a little faster as she found herself slowly turning the doorknob, allowing the door to finally open, staring in his dark brown eyes, questions laying in hers. "I love you, Ali."


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